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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825599">Day Two: Haunted House</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/running_downn/pseuds/running_downn'>running_downn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Klancetober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comedy, Ghost Allura, Ghost Hunter AU, Haunted House, M/M, Ouija Board, SPOOKY SHIT GOES DOWN, Spooky, Witchcraft, YouTuber Keith (Voltron), YouTuber Lance (Voltron), Youtuber AU, can i tag this as a comedy, ghost lotor, klance, mention of alfor - Freeform, mention of romelle - Freeform, there i did it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:49:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/running_downn/pseuds/running_downn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The energy in the air had gone from that of banter and a lack of seriousness to the exact opposite. Lance was an avid believer in ghosts, having had his own experiences in the past and overall reasons to believe in them. Keith was more of the skeptic, mainly because he’d seen plenty of videos faking supernatural events and disproving ouija boards specifically. Sure, he believed in cryptids and a handful of mythological creatures, but that was simply because they were physical beings that were easier to prove the existence or lack thereof.<br/>“So… do you know how to start this?” Keith asked.<br/>---<br/>Welcome to day two (I know it's technically the 4th, I'm trying. This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. Anyways, haunted house this time, in which Keith and Lance are youtubers and decide to go ghost hunting for a video.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Klancetober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day Two: Haunted House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hiiiii<br/>Remember when I said I'd be writing one of these every day? In my defense, online school is a bitch and I haven't written a fic in months before klancetober. That being said, I will try my best to catch up, and I really hope you enjoy this! I'm actually really proud of it. It's more dialogue based which was kinda fun! Also note that I mention witchcraft and the use of a ouija board. I myself am a practicing witch, but don't work with ouija board or spirit communication. So if i got anything wrong or was offensive in any way, just let me know and I'll fix it!<br/>Content Warning: Mainly just for swear words. If I should add anything else just let me know :)<br/>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Keith, is this even legal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re recording right now, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then yes, it’s completely legal, Lance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith Kogane and Lance Mcclain were the oddest pair on YouTube, which was certainly saying something. Both started their own channels years ago in the early days of the site, each with content that opposed the other completely. Keith focused on art, his channel a small family that he really didn’t want to expand. He was comfortable in his own bubble of people that enjoyed his art for what it was and gave genuine constructive criticism. Lance, however, was everything Keith thought he despised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance’s channel began with makeshift skits that turned into its own little series, all about “Lance the Space Ranger” and his adventures in space. And by space, he was setting up decorated cardboard boxes in the backyard. Nonetheless, he posted videos constantly until he grew into new interests. He continued making skits, keeping them short and sweet, but also jumped into the business of vlogging. It wasn’t until he came across a thumbnail commission post on twitter that he met Keith. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith almost didn’t even take the request, hesitant to have his work plastered on a seemingly false persona as he skimmed through the account of Lance Mcclain - aka: SpaceCadetOfficial. So he made his way to the bottom of the page, finally finding the old space ranger skits after an embarrassingly long time of scrolling. It was the genuine sense of adventure and care that caused Keith to fall down the rabbit hole of binging Lance’s content that night. He didn’t even like the style of videos the other put out, only really there for the strange pull of Lance’s charisma and joy that was evident through the camera. Something simply set him apart from the others. So Keith took the offer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They surprisingly stayed in contact after that, Keith drawing the occasional thumbnail turning into making short animations for Lance’s videos. Keith gained a few new fans from the ordeal as Lance also had a decently small subscriber count. They were both content with their internet families and didn’t mind staying at their status for any length of time. And then Keith was finally a face on the Mcclain channel, appearing in every other video and eventually joining Lance’s new series: ghost hunting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So there they were, making the first episode of a series they had yet to come up with a title for, and climbing over a fence that seemed it would fall apart at just a touch. They looked ridiculous to say the least. Lance was decked out in his excessive wear, as always, decked out with a black turtleneck (plus a small scarf for good measure), skinny jeans, and boots. Keith wore all black as well due to Lance’s insistences, sporting a regular t-shirt, leather jacket, fingerless gloves, jeans, and platform boots. A beanie sat on top of his head as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for your continuously, hilarious input, Keith,” Lance deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith shrugged and tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Just doing my part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance rolled his eyes and turned back to the camera, holding it high enough to capture both of their faces in frame. Keith knew the cue and faced the lens. “Hello Rangers, welcome back to yet again another wonderful video with everyone's favourite internet duo.” The line earned him a scoff from the other. “Today, we’re doing something a bit different for the spooky season! The other day I caught Keith watching one of those lame ghost hunting shows, like a fucking cryptid, and the greatest idea I think I’ve ever had dawned on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was the one that suggested it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ghost hunting! But it’s us!” Lance spoke with his usual enthusiasm, such a trait that would come off as ingenuine if it was anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lance. His personality flowed effortlessly, never a front, never a show. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith groaned. “This is such a bad idea. We’re going to get arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you just say it was legal? Oh well, at least I know you’re willing to break the law for our wonderful viewers.”</span>
</p><p><span>“I’ve never been willing to do that.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Well, you are now,” Lance shrugged. “Now that we’ve established that if there is an axe murderer, Keith will be risking his life to save me, it’s time to enter the scariest house I’ve literally ever seen.” He went on to ramble about the background of the house, the story fitting in with every cliche ghost tale of someone that lost their mind and killed their lover. A couple in love, the man that couldn’t handle something anymore, taking it out on the girl and then himself. The girl had lived with her father for some time before that father’s best friend needed a place to stay after the loss of his wife - something they could relate on. The girl and the other mans son became best friends and eventually fell in love, and the son remained as the prime suspect for her murder.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Lance, I got everything out of the car. You ready to go?” Keith spoke up as Lance finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely. Not. I’m actually terrified.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith smirked, “Perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you guys see that? Keith’s going to kill me, oh my God I’m going to die. If anyone sees this video, the man that murdered me is Keith, he’s very short, has a terrible mullet, and his fingerless gloves are surgically attached to his hand-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep talking like that and I might just have to kill you.” And with that, Keith was jumping the fence, Lance following suit after sending a wide-eyed expression at the camera. The two landed on the other side with bags full of equipment on their backs. Keith held a night-vision cam while Lance struggled with the regular one. They both finally managed to get over the fence, focusing their cameras on the house before them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The building was falling apart, there was no doubt about that. The windows were boarded up to the best of whoever’s ability in doing so, but the wooden planks covering the broken glass were proving to be quite useless. Keith took a cautious step towards the building and mumbled about how this was the night they were going to die and how much he was looking forward to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you like this?” Lance asked sarcastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith turned around to stare at the other directly, his words leaving his mouth without hesitance. “I crave death.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up.” The two attempted to laugh as quiet as they could as they continued creeping towards the house. “So, Keith, do you believe in ghosts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that even a question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith let out a huff of air. “I don’t really know. I think the idea of them is pretty cool I guess but I have to see it for myself to believe it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a picture of mothman above your bed-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s classified information!” Keith hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance simply shrugged behind the camera before turning it to face himself once more. “He does! I swear he’s obsessed with it.” He turned his head to look at Keith ahead of him. “How do you believe in shit like BigFoot, but ghosts are questionable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I refuse to have this conversation with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, come on, buddy! Do it for the fans, the viewers!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t, he doesn’t don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith stepped up stairs leading to the house, careful not to break any of the boards as he skipped a couple of the steps. “I do. This is actually a ploy to kill you, sorry man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooo, pulling a Blair Witch Project are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You actually paid attention to that?” Keith’s voice was laced with both amusement and a hint of genuine appreciation. The two had movie nights quite often, taking turns choosing the movies. When Lance revealed that he’d never seen The Blair Witch Project, Keith refused to do anything until they watched it. He was never sure if Lance liked the movies he chose and made sure to pay close attention to the ones the other picked to ensure that insecurity wasn’t shared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I did, I pay attention to everything we watch! Do you think I have that short of an attention span?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant… idiot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance smiled softly to himself, forgetting the camera was still on him for a second and immediately turned it away when he caught himself. He also got lucky that the camera was no longer able to catch his expression when his foot fell right through one of the stairs, causing him to let out a yell and fall forward. Keith tried his best to hold back a string of laughs in his throat by covering his mouth and snorting behind it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ha ha. Very funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith caught his breath enough to speak. “It really is. This is the highlight of my night!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an asshole,” Lance groaned and Keith reached down to help his friend up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is the camera okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The camera? Yes, Keith, the camera is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Unlike my pride, my dignity, my sense of self worth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I’m not, my soul has been damaged. I don’t think I can go on-” he was interrupted by a hand yanking him to the front door and a night-vision camera shoved in his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready for this?” Keith smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really starting to think you’re actually going to kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay on your toes, my friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance rolled his eyes with a smile and pushed past the camera, focusing his own on the door. He reached forward and gave the handle a tug. Locked. “How are we supposed to get in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith stepped forward in response and handed his camera to Lance, not giving the other time to question it as Keith picked up a large rock from the ground and smashed it through the glass. Lance was left to sputter worries and remarks behind the camera as his friend reached through the window and unlocked the door. “Like that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re insane, holy crow- Keith!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just smashed through it! Like it was nothing! Like you didn't just break into a haunted house!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked how we were going to get in, so I opened the door. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Unless the ghosts get mad and murder us for disrespecting their grounds.” Keith paused for a minute before cupping his mouth with his hands. “If there are any angry spirits here, the bean pole beside me would gladly volunteer as a sacrifice!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you doing, Keith-” Lance reached forward and attempted to move the other’s hands from his face but struggled immensely to do so as he was still holding the other camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I humbly give him up to whoever wants him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to god-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take him, please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your stupid camera back,” Lance shoved the camera into the shorters hand, the two out of breath with smiles on their faces. Keith held onto the camera once more and slowly opened the front door to the house. The world inside gave off an energy that neither could seem to place but both felt instantly. Despite the cobwebs and deteriorating wallpaper, the furniture and decorations sat in place with peace. It seemed as though no one had touched the place in years, leaving everything in place from when it was lived in. Said furniture and decor was elegant to say the least. Portraits of those frozen in time lines the walls and followed the staircase up to a second floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah…” Keith muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, indeed,” Lance breathed out. The two took a gentle step in, guilt filling Keith’s chest about breaking the window on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith closed the door behind them and spun in a slow circle as he examined their new surroundings. “How old did you say this place was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Built in the late 1800s, lived in by a couple families until the last one where the whole, murder, incident happened,” Lance responded as he stepped into the living room on the right. “Which I’m assuming is in that picture. Right there.” Keith rushed to his friend's side and looked at a large painting sitting above the fireplace. Depicted was a family that matched the story Lance had told before they entered the house. A large man stood centered, white hair at medium length being brushed behind his ears. Before him stood a girl (looking to be around Keith and Lance’s age) with dark skin and curly, white hair. Her eyes shone blue, matching the earrings dangling on either side of her face. Next to her was a boy with long, silver hair, and deep brown skin. His lips were pulled into a tight, noticeable frown. Above him and next to the other man was a large, intimidating figure, his face being torn off of the painting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s also been dead for over a hundred years, Lance,” Keith groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance gasped dramatically, shoving the camera in Keith’s face. “Well that’s the most disrespectful thing I’ve ever heard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith, in turn, pushed the camera away. “It’s true! Ugh, we can’t take you anywhere without you hitting on a girl. Even if that girl is dead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I can think someone’s beautiful without it being weird. You’re making it weird, Keith.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you remembered to bring the ouija board you could ask for her number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, no. Second of all, I did remember to bring it, thank you very much,” Lance pouted as he threw his bag onto the ground and began digging around for the wooden board and planchette. He set the camera up on the table beside him and Keith set his on the fireplace to get a different angle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to do it right here, or do you want to explore the rest of the house first?” Keith asked as he sat down beside the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can do this first, while the adrenaline is still high.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean, before you chicken out and ask to leave?” Keith chuckled as Lance pulled </span>
</p><p>
  <span>out the board and set it on the table, pushing the camera back a little to make room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to attack me like this, people are gonna think you’re actually mean to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s called a dynamic, they know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so lame,” Lance laughed. He found the planchette and set in next to the board. He reached back into his back and pulled out a couple white candles and a lighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you’re not messing around,” Keith’s smile softened a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, you know Romelle practices witchcraft. She refused to let us do this the wrong way. Speaking of, that means we have to be respectful. No weird jokes once we start or else it won’t work.” Lance’s expression was more serious than Keith had seen during almost all of his videos. He nodded briefly as they moved to sit in front of the camera, both at opposite ends of the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why she made us meditate a bunch before letting us go?” Keith spoke as he aided Lance in lighting the candles, who gave a nod in response. “And the whole ‘building our energy thing’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said it was a form of protection. She also gave us some incense which I put in your bag.” Keith placed his bag beside him and reached in. Sure enough, a small box with an incense stick sat inside, as well as a small dish with a pentacle engraved in it. Keith placed the dish on the table and put one of the incense sticks in the small hole in the center of the star. He lit the stick and blew it out, causing a stream of smoke to flow from it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll set up the other equipment real quick,” Keith said as he stood up. He adjusted the night-vision cam on the fireplace mantel and set up an extra camera on a tripod in the corner of the room. He pulled out an infra-red camera as well and placed it in another corner on a table, home to a cracked vase with pink and yellow flowers decorating the sides. There were a few extra devices, made to record sound at different frequencies and detect changes in energy. As well as a spirit box - a device that Keith was not looking forward to due to how loud it could be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the equipment was set up around the room and the two double checked for sources of blowing air, radios, and reasons for the temperature to fluctuate (all of which proved to be a controlled environment with no reason for anything strange to happen), they took their places sitting before the table and looked down at the ouija board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The energy in the air had gone from that of banter and a lack of seriousness to the exact opposite. Lance was an avid believer in ghosts, having had his own experiences in the past and overall reasons to believe in them. Keith was more of the skeptic, mainly because he’d seen plenty of videos faking supernatural events and disproving ouija boards specifically. Sure, he believed in cryptids and a handful of mythological creatures, but that was simply because they were physical beings that were easier to prove the existence or lack thereof. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… do you know how to start this?” Keith asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance shrugged, glancing quickly at the camera and then back to the board. “Gonna be honest, I zoned out a little when Romelle was telling me what to do. I remember some stuff though, like how you have to say goodbye, dispose of the board properly when you’re done, don’t be an ass, etcetera. Oh, and we aren’t allowed to let go of the planchette until we’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith took a breath before picking up the planchette. “Alrighty then. Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I’ll ever be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The planchette was placed in the center of the board, Keith immediately putting his fingertips on one end while Lance hesitated slightly before doing the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… okay, I guess I’ll ask if anyone is there?” Lance spoke up, voice shaking slightly and fear hiding behind a light, breathy laugh. Nothing happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two looked at each other briefly before Keith took his turn to speak. “If there is anyone there, could you please, um, move the planchette?” Still nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance’s turn. “If there’s someone there, can you tell us your name? You gotta move the thing we’re touching, move it over the letters. Just tell us your name if you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was uninterrupted by the planchette moving gently to the corner of the board: Hello. Lance let out another breath of air, anxiety coating his body. Keith’s eyes widened a bit as he looked up the other sitting across from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fuck with me dude,” he chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance shook his head widely. “That wasn’t me, I swear!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way it actually moved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it did, so…” Lance looked around the room. “Whoever did that, can you spell out your name please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, the planchette moved with a careful tug. It felt cautious and wary, as though it was afraid that if it moved too fast it would disappear. It moved over the letters, pausing briefly on each one: A-L-L-U-R-A.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allura? Lance, what does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy fuck, man, that’s the girls name!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith creased his brows. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance gleamed at him, eyes sparkling in disbelief. “Allura! That’s the girls name! The girl in the picture above the fireplace, the girl from the story, that’s her!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t tell me this because… why? For all I know you could be doing all this just to get me to believe in ghosts and spirits and whatever the hell you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t tell you because if I did, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>could fuck with </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> and since you don’t know the name, and it was just spelled out, that’s not possible!” Lance looked over at the camera beside them. “I don’t know if anyone is going to believe this, but I swear on our lives that this isn't fake. We didn’t conspire behind the scenes or whatever to do this, we didn’t plan anything, this is really happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Keith sighed. “But you know the name. So how do I know that you aren’t messing with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust you,” the boy deadpanned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance nodded his head and looked back at the planchette, the object still on the last letter of the name. “Yes, Keith. Trust me. Here,” he looked back up at the other, “what were you saying about ouija boards? That if you close your eyes it won’t spell anything because we aren’t looking at it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah exactly,” Keith responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we can move the camera on the tripod to look over the board, we close our eyes, and watch the video back to see if it actually spells anything!” Lance exclaimed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith opened his mouth to retort but said nothing, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows in acceptance. “That’s actually a really good idea. But how are we going to move it without taking our hands off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could say goodbye to end the session and hope Allura comes back?” Lance suggested and earned a nod from Keith. They both said goodbye at the same time, making a circle with the planchette before moving to the actual words on the board of farewell. After doing so, Keith rushed over to the tripod and brought it over to the table, adjusting the camera to face the board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s hope this works,” Keith sighed. “Here, I’ll pull my hat over my eyes and you wrap your scarf around yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe you wore that over a turtleneck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t judge me, my neck gets cold easily!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith let out a laugh under his breath and pulled the hat over his eyes, Lance mirroring the action as he wrapped the scarf around his. They placed their hands on the planchette, greeted Allura specifically, and began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things were going surprisingly well, the planchette moving after every question and maintaining the delicacy it held before. Keith was still convinced that the second they watched the video back that it would show the planchette moving aimlessly, and Lance’s hope would be crushed. He felt bad for the future outcome he was sure to come, but continued on to make the most of the experience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, this is so cool,” Lance gleamed. “Okay, next question. Hm… I don’t know if this one is too insensitive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did just ask what year she died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, but this isn’t a date or a name or an obvious answer-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just ask, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Keith said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance took a breath, biting his bottom lip. “Alright then. So, Allura, why are you still here? Ghosts only exist because they have unfinished business, right? So what’s yours?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing happened. The planchette stayed still. The air sat heavy in the room and the two waited for a response. But there didn’t seem to be one coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming it’s because her boyfriend murdered her-” Keith was interrupted by his and Lance’s hands jerking on the board, causing each to flinch. Lance let out a string of noises full of fear, ones that Keith was excited to laugh at when he edited the footage into a video the next day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which direction was that?” Lance rambled. “My right, right? So that’s towards yes? Wait, no, no that’s not yes, that’s no- Keith she said no!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No to what?” Keith exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said her boyfriend killed her, and she said no!” Lance tore the scarf off his head and yanked the beanie off of Keith’s. “Keith, buddy, my man, her man was innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lance,” Keith sighed, “we don’t know that that’s what she meant or if this even worked. We still have to watch the footage back-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So let’s do that, right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, let’s say goodbye then.” Lance nodded and the two looked down at the board. They froze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith’s hands were still on the planchette, fingertips gracing the edges. But Lance’s? They were clean off, one holding onto his scarf and the only clutching onto Keith’s beanie. They slowly looked back up to each other, fear lacing both of their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not the worst thing that could happen… right?” Keith asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, Romelle said it might just offend a spirit. We aren’t gonna get killed or anything,” Lance laughed lightly in order to comfort himself. “I’m sure we’re fine. Let’s just pack things up, go home, look at the footage, and see if we made complete fools of ourselves!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stood up, Keith letting go of the planchette and reaching down to grab the board when the planchette shifted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Lance?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw that, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They looked at the small object. Keith was about to dismiss what he wasn’t even sure he saw when suddenly the planchette started moving. It was aggressive, the exact opposite than the energy it had before. There was no caution or care, no delicacy or worry in how it moved. It was as if whatever was moving it wanted them to be scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith took a step back. “Oh, fuck no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>R</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this bitch spells ‘run’ I swear-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>U</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keith, Keith it’s spelling ‘run’! I fucking hate it there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>N</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope,” Lance sounded as though he was laughing and crying at the same time, repeating the same word of denial over and over again as he grabbed his bag and shoved all the equipment in it as he rushed around the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is this,” Keith yelled as he blew out all the candles and shoved them into his own bag. He grabbed the incense and the tray it sat on, the object covered in ashes as the incense stick was completely burnt out. “I hate ghosts, it’s been decided, this was a bad fucking idea Lance!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you yelling at me for? This was your idea!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I literally have you on camera saying that it was your idea-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vase from earlier was flung across the room, missing Lance’s head by a fraction of an inch as it shattered against the wall. Keith pulled out a large hunting knife at the occurrence, which caused Lance to let out a scream. “What the fuck Keith!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A knife? Really? A knife?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Lance, a knife!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but what the actual fuck is a knife going to do against a ghost?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I look like I know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The portrait from above the fireplace shot across the room, going over Keith’s head and landing on the table in front of them. Allura’s eyes were blacked out completely, her father’s the same. The boy beside her held the same gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s time to go!” Lance shrieked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two zipped up their bags and sprinted out of the house, jumping over the porch steps and rushing through the yard. Lance was yelling intelligible things as he didn’t even attempt to hold his camera properly. Keith ran at a speed he didn’t know he could run at and used his momentum to jump over the fence with ease. Lance followed suit thanks to his long legs, taking a mental note to see if he caught the most badass thing he’d ever done in his life on camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith fumbled with the keys to his truck, a rusted, red vehicle that Lance couldn’t even get himself to make fun of. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered. “Yes! Got it!” Keith unlocked the door and rushed in. He unlocked the passenger door and Lance got in immediately, Keith already driving before the other could pull the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both breathing heavily, Keith doing his best not to speed as Lance remembered he was holding a camera that was still recording. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I turn this off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, the camera?” Keith huffed out. “Uh, sure, yeah go ahead. We’ll record an end segment when we get home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, cool.” With that, Lance turned the camera off and held it in his lap. He let out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I don’t even know what to think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the hell am I supposed to sleep at night? I don’t even know if I want to watch the footage of what the board was saying!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Just come back to my place, we can watch the footage, and edit the video in the morning to post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance took a second to process what his friend had said. “Keith?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you too afraid to sleep in your house alone?” Keith didn’t respond. “Awwwww Keeeeith, you got scared! For once in your life, you’re scared! Ha!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not that I can’t defend myself, or that I’m scared. You said that you were too scared to be alone so I’m just being a good friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you are, buddy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled into the parking lot of Keith’s apartment complex, both taking a breath before getting out of the car and rushing inside. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity, which was genuine torture for the recently traumatized guys in said elevator. It finally reached the correct floor and the two were on the brink of running as they headed to Keith’s room. Keith turned on the lights before entering, Lance close behind him. The second they stepped in, a large, furry figure jumped onto Keith, causing him to fall back into Lance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance let out a shriek before realizing who it was. “Kosmo, holy crow, you scared the shit out of me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least he was awake and not hiding somewhere,” Keith chuckled, petting the dog and giving him a quick hug before standing up. They went through the entire apartment in order to turn on every light they could find in a mutual agreement to keep the place as far away from darkness as they could. Once all the lights were on they sat next to each other on the small couch in the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence as Kosmo laid down in a dog bed in the corner of the room. Neither knew what to say or where to start, so Keith pulled the camera from the tripod out of his bag and got up to get his computer. Once he had that, the two settled down with blankets wrapped around them, and placed the computer on the coffee table before them. Keith plugged the camera into the computer, transferred the video, and took a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna wait until morning to watch this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Lance let out. “I don’t think I can sleep without knowing what happened.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keith nodded and pressed play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith asked the first question. “Hi, uh, we’re back. Is anyone there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>YES </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lance’s turn. “Is this Allura?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was some hesitancy, but eventually it moved to Yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you die?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>1-8-7-8</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there more than one spirit in the room with us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>YES </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On that note,” Keith said, “is there anyone else talking to us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>N-O-T-N-O-W</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is the boy in the painting with you? The one your age?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>L-O-T-O-R</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he a friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A-L-O-V-E-R</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, this is so cool-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith paused the video, refusing to rewatch what they both knew happened next. The two sat in dead silence, Lance’s jaw dropped slightly and Keith swallowing loud enough for the both of them to hear. They’d be lying if they said they didn’t fall asleep huddled together, clinging to each other under the same blanket as if their lives depended on it. Neither of them thought about the unresolved ouija board in Keith’s bag, or even knew that Kosmo spent half the night staring at an empty wall. They tried to think nothing of the glitches on Keith’s laptop when they uploaded the footage from Lance’s camera. They tried to ignore the figure they saw countless times on that footage, but they caved in and spent hours going frame by frame. Eventually they uploaded the video, an entire week behind schedule due to how long they spent agonizing over the whole ordeal. Needless to say, their comments were flooded with as much speculation as there was belief. The real dilemma was whether or not they should listen to the thousands of requests for another episode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, neither of them spent another night alone for quite some time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome to the end everyone, I hope that lived up to the hype.<br/>I know that this and the first fic aren't super romance based, this one more so than the last. I honestly just need to get back into writing their characters before I can dive into super romance driven plots. Thanks for being patient and for reading ! Constructive criticism is welcome :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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